


The Rest of His Existence

by Angst_BuriTTo



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Tragedy, Azrael’s Blade, S2e05 - Your Very Own Guardian Devil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 05:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angst_BuriTTo/pseuds/Angst_BuriTTo
Summary: The Pattern was wrong.





	The Rest of His Existence

  
It began with a bang. The Big Bang, that is; something they all tried not to think about because _that was their parents thanks very much, ewww_.

Then they appeared; the first Archangels.

Amenadiel came first, the oldest, the strongest, the angel of Time.

Then came the Raphael, the Healer, the compassionate one.

Gabriel came after Raphael, and he was the Messenger, and the Angel of justice; he was fair, but just.

Then came Michael and Samael, Twins, and opposites. Samael was light, and life; he was a creator. Michael was darkness, war, and destruction; he was a soldier.

Then came Azrael, the Archangel of Death and the carrier of souls to the afterlife.

There wasn’t supposed to be another Archangel.

But then Uriel was born; a surprise – a break in the pattern.

  
Uriel became, ironically, the Archangel of patterns.

As the youngest Archangel, he was dotted on by his brothers and coddled. His propensity towards patterns and figuring out the next action word, or plan of everyone around him alienated him from the rest of the Angels, but not his older siblings.

None more than Samael. The Light Bringer paid Uriel the most attention, loving his younger brother and teaching him everything he knew. They were closer than even Michael and Samael, and those two were as close as twins could be, even for how different they were from each other.

Until the day where the pattern shifted; Samael’s pattern, to be specific.

Uriel had been frightened, and young.

He had gone to his Parents immediately, in hopes that they could help Samael.

It was an action he regretted for the rest of his existence.

  
Samael fell, because Uriel couldn’t keep his mouth shut about his favourite brothers want of Free Will – something no Angel, Archangel or otherwise, had. It just wasn’t something they had ever been offered, or thought they would want. But Samael’s rebellion showed that some Angels, once given the thought, wanted it very much.

Uriel had been too young at the time to fight, but if he had, he most likely would have taken Samael’s side in the Rebellion. But after Samael, now calling himself Lucifer, had been beaten, wings broken and chained, and thrown out of Heaven by the swings of Michael’s sword, Uriel had decided to pretend that he didn’t; that he resented and hated ‘the Devil’ and his ‘Evils’.

A millennia of pretending makes it hard to decide what feelings were real and not.

So when he heard that Mom had escaped from Hell and Lucifer was ignoring their Fathers command to take her back, he decided to be the son he had been pretending to be for so long.

  
And here he was.

Uriel knew, when he confronted his brother, that Lucifer would fight him to protect his human, the Pattern was clear:

Lucifer, The Devil, would fight Uriel to stop him from pressing the key that, in 24 hours would end Chloe Deckers life, and Lucifer would be too distracted by trying to stop the inevitable to protect their Mother, whom Uriel would stab with Azrael’s blade and wipe her from existence, and his Father would be pleased.

Uriel knew that this was what his Father wanted, even if he didn’t explicitly say so; the Patterns were never wrong, and the Patterns led him to fighting Lucifer, in this Church, and going on to destroy Mom.

  
What Uriel had forgotton, had failed to remember, to realize, to anticipate, was that Lucifer, the Devil, had once been, and in many ways was once again becoming, the Archangel Samael; his older brother of whom Patterns seemed to either follow to the letter, or veer off at the last second in the complete opposite direction.

Uriel had been pretending to be the perfect son for so long that he had forgotten what it was like to know what it was like to be the imperfect one, like Lucifer. He had once been able to anticipate Lucifer’s special effect to the Patterns, but no longer; he didn’t even remember that Lucifer could even do that.

It was something he would regret for the rest of his existence.

  
They had been fighting – Uriel, of course, was winning, the Blade in his hand swinging the way the Patterns had told him to, the way Lucifer fought was new, different than he used to, after millennia’s in Hell.

He struck with full force to the right with the Blade, expecting Lucifer to follow the Pattern and dodge left, where the Patterns had told him he would, only to be pushed into the pews with his left fist.

  
But Lucifer didn’t dodge – he hesitated.

He never did find out why Lucifer hesitated.

The Blade struck flesh and passed through muscle and bone, Lucifer letting out a loud cry as the Blade pierced his chest.

Uriel froze, struck with disbelief as one hand held his brothers arm, and the other grasped the Blade that was embedded deep into Lucifer’s chest.

  
The sound of their breathing sounded horribly loud in the now silent church, Uriel’s shocked and harsh, Lucifer’s gurgling and wet.

  
“Brother…” Uriel whispered, horrified at what he had just done.

His brothers wide brown eyes looked up at him, and Uriel could see a myriad of things hidden in their depths; Betrayal, shock, hurt, pain, and acceptance.

“Brother, I’m sorry, I didn’t,” Lucifer’s body collapsed against him, and Uriel caught him as he fell to the floor, gently lowering his older brother to the ground, Uriel finally let go of the dagger; He knew removing it would be a mercy – would make Lucifer’s death, his unmaking, faster and less painful and drawn-out – but he wanted a few more moments with Lucifer before his actions and the consequences caught up with him.

“Brother I didn’t mean to – the Pattern was wrong,” Uriel placed a hand on his brother’s rapidly paling cheek, sickened to feel that cold had already sunk into Lucifer’s skin, the blood that once made his body warm rapidly spilling and pooling over his chest and onto the floor.

“Please I’m sorry, I just wanted to please Father, I wanted to be a good son, but I was wrong- if this is what being a good son means, then I don’t want it – He had to have known – Father must have know this would happen, and he let me – oh Father, he _let_ me do this – Brother?”

Uriel looked down suddenly, to find it was over.

Lucifer’s chest no longer rose and fell, his wound no longer bled, his eyes no longer held a spark.

  
Lucifer was dead.

  
No, not just dead – destroyed.

By his own hands.

  
It was an action he would regret for the rest of his existence.


End file.
